2:15 AM ⌚Michael Clifford⌚ au

Chapter 7- Lust Of The Lost

Esther was standing close to Michael. Michael could hear her breathing. The adrenalin running through Esther's veins kept the voices going. Michael had been backed into a corner and he didn't like it.

"Esther. Esther listen to me. You need to put the knife down. I'm sorry, ok?" he said, trying to lull her into a false sense of security.

"You're not sorry! You planned this! You wanted this to happen! You want me dead, Michael! So you deserve what's going to happen!" tears brimmed in the broken girl's eyes as she looked up at the broken boy in front of her.

"Because you hurt me!" he lashed out. "You and your group of friend tore me down every day until there was nothing left of the man I used to be," he lurched, his voice getting quieter as he spoke.

"I didn't mean to!" she argued.

"That doesn't matter!" he shouted back, gripping the handle even tighter.

"I bet Luke's so ashamed of you Michael. I would say Calum too but he can't even remember what happened two minutes ago. You should join him, Luke I mean. You've taken so many lives that your blood on my hands won't faze me," she smirked.

Michael looked down at her and gulped. Without thinking, he thrust his knife towards Esther. The warm blade slicked her cheek, the crimson liquid trickling down her left cheek. He expected her to retreat and grab at her wound, but she just laughed and evilly stared up at him.

Just as Michael was about to attack again, Esther grabbed his face and smashed their lips together. In surprise and shock, he dropped his knife. When she retracted Michael stared at her with wide eyes.

"What...why?" he stuttered.

"Because I wanted you to feel one last please before you die," she spoke.

Before Michael's brain could process her words, the thick blade of Michael's beloved hunting knife was dragged deeply across this throat. The blood that sprayed from the deep gash in Michael's neck splashed over Esther's face and chest. Esther watched in contempt as Michael began to splutter and clutch at his throat. He coughed heavily and dropped to his knees. She walked behind the psychopath and used her foot to force him onto his front.

The dirt covering the ground attached to Michael's body and clothes as he thrashed about, coughing and choking. She walked around so she was one again facing Michael's front before screaming.

"That's for my parents!" she screamed as she kicked his get. "That's for my friends!" she yelled and kicked the same spot. She kicked once again, making sure it was the hardest of all, "and that's...for me," she wiped under her eyes, removing the tears and some of his blood.

She dropped his knife beside his body and walked towards the door, pushing it forcefully so she could leave this hellhole. Once she'd walked up the stairs she searched everywhere for his phone. Once she'd found it she dialed triple zero and held it to her ear.

"Triple zero, what's your emergency?" the man on the other end of the line asked calmly.

"I know what happened to those missing teenagers," she spoke softly.

"What's your name?" he asked her.

"I didn't do it. I'm one of them. Esther," she explained.

"Ok Esther. Where are you?" he asked in urgency.

She walked outside and when she looked up at the house she knew exactly where she was, "the big black house at the top of Simpson Avenue. The old Clifford house," she said and sat on the front step. "Just send help. There's so much blood," she whispered.

"Just hold tight Esther. Help is on its way," he assured her.

"Help," her voice broke and she hung up the phone.

She stared down at her hometown. She had to admit, the view from the Clifford house was quite breath taking. As she stared deadly at the scenery, sirens filled the air. She blinked slowly as people rushed over to her. The world seemed as if someone had hit the mute button, all pictures with no sound.

She slowly lifted her gaze to the police officers and nurses obstructing her view. The male nurse helped her up and slowly walked her over to the ambulance. She watched what was in front of her as she was examined. When a black bag was wheeled out she faintly heard Missy's name being mentioned.

"Suspect, Michael Clifford. Nineteen years old. Deep wound cut into his neck," drifted into Esther's head.

When Esther turned her head and saw the second black body bag lying on a stretcher. She blinked once then let out a loud scream. Everyone was startled by her sudden outburst, turning to look at her. After she'd run out of air she closed her mouth and fell back.

When Esther reopened her eyes she was in a white room. A white blanket sat across her lap and a medical bracelet was now on her wrist. A few doctors came in every so often to check her vitals and ask her what happened but the poor girl couldn't find it in her to talk.

After being released a week later, Esther was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and had to see a therapist twice a week. She didn't do much after she escaped. She'd just sit in her room looking out her window every day. She didn't go back to work, she didn't leave the house. Appointments excluded. Everyone was worried about her, but that was a given.

Esther was twenty-one when she finally left the house again. It was only to go and buy some new clothes but it was a major breakthrough. She was twenty-two when she moved out. She moved three towns over to get a fresh start. She got a job at the local primary school as a teacher's aid. When Esther was twenty-three she met a man. At first they only exchanged numbers but after a while they started going on regular dates and spending a lot of time together.

By the time Esther was twenty-four, her and the man she'd met were married and expecting their first baby. Her husband knew what happened to Esther. It took her half a year to gain the courage to tell him, but he was supportive and tried to help her through her bad days.

When Esther was twenty-five little Josie had already turned one. Esther's little family was happy. She'd occasionally have nightmares of the worst three days of her life, but she'd remind herself they were just nightmares and go back to sleep.

When Esther was twenty-six, their second child was born; Nicholas. She felt bad for getting depressed after he was born but it was out of her control. But the worst day was when her husband told her crushing news. She discovered who he really was. He could have prevented the terrible things that happened to her. Should have known by the name.

Ashton Irwin.